


what would be enough (to be satisfied)

by tardisandjam



Series: if you had to choose [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 12:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5968009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisandjam/pseuds/tardisandjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’ll be easier to compartmentalize all of this once it’s time for him to make his decision, to forget the loving smiles and squeals of excitement. Soon it’ll be nothing but a memory. </p>
<p>(If he even remembers it. He doesn’t know how genie magic works. Part of him desperately hopes he won’t remember any of this, to save himself the pain of loss.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	what would be enough (to be satisfied)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, good god, it's been six hundred million years since I last actually wrote fic. I'd been meaning to continue the original fic for a while but just never got around to doing it? It didn't help that the show made me so angry I ended up writing a twenty page essay for class on Grant Ward, so. Yikes. 
> 
> Written for WSWinter (under the skin). The prompt is more on the subtle end than usual, but it's there.
> 
> Title is from Non-Stop from Hamilton. Expect to see lots of Hamilton influence everywhere.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in this- what would he call it? A world? A dream? A vision? It’s long enough for him to celebrate his daughter’s first birthday (and he still can’t fully grasp that, he has a _daughter_ , a beautiful little girl who squeals excitedly every single time she sees him.) Long enough for Leo Fitz and Lincoln Campbell to settle into Hydra with very few problems (the situation with Lincoln and the vending machine _definitely_ counts as a problem, despite the fact that Lincoln insists it wasn’t), and enough that he’s on a first name basis with both of them.

He wasn’t even on a first name basis with Leo while they were on the team.

All of this- the domestics, the happiness... it’s all gotten under his skin and made its way into his heart. It’s become a weakness. 

He doesn’t do weakness.

* * *

He starts to pull away. 

He doesn’t move for a second when he hears Taylor calling for him. His kisses and touches leave Jemma lacking and wanting more, wondering why he's being so cool. He doesn’t always call for Buddy, takes an extra moment before greeting the dog at the door. It’ll be easier to compartmentalize all of this once it’s time for him to make his decision, to forget the loving smiles and squeals of excitement. Soon it’ll be nothing but a memory. 

(If he even remembers it. He doesn’t know how genie magic works. He's still reeling from the magic bit, and it's been some time.

Part of him desperately hopes he won’t remember any of this, to save himself the pain of loss.)

* * *

“It’s been _two weeks_ since we’ve had sex, Leo. Something’s wrong, I know it.” A soft, upset sigh leaves the woman as she sits on the edge of her best friend’s desk, lost in thought. “But he won’t- he won’t talk to me, and we always talk. Always.”

“Jem, maybe it’s an off week for him.” 

“Off week? _Off week?_ ” Jemma’s voice pitches higher, the woman becoming more and more visibly distraught. “The last time he was normal was Taylor’s birthday, Leo, and that was almost two months ago. Ever since then.... he barely touches me, save when I initiate it, but if I try and do anything more than a hug and a kiss, it's like I put poison in his food! He’s not spending as much time with Taylor, hell, he doesn’t even play with Buddy anymore! It’s not... It’s not _him_ , something’s going on.” She swabs quickly at the tears threatening to spill over. "I don't know how to comfort Taylor, Leo, she's so upset that her Daddy's ignoring her that she cries all the time. It takes me hours to get her to sleep and I never know what to do...." 

“Alright, alright. Jemma, breathe.” Leo reaches up to put his hand on her knee, squeezing comfortingly. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“That would be nice.”

* * *

Grant’s office is quiet, save for the ticking of the clock on his wall. He can’t even bring himself to focus on the paperwork in front of him-- Lincoln’s team is in the Northwest working on something at the Seattle office and they’ve been asking for reinforcements the last two days, but every time he’s gone to grab the files for approval, his eyes land on the photo of Taylor and his wedding to Jemma. Then it’s right back to a sinking feeling of guilt, of discomfort. 

He thinks he knows why. The last day or so he’s woken up with the feeling that time was running out- his choice had to be approaching. His stomach twists at the very thought, for a good reason. 

He had told the genie he wanted to dismantle SHIELD. He never said how. Part of him is scared as hell to find out how she interpreted it.

(What if Jemma’s dead in that other world, what if his choice kills her? He doesn’t know if he could handle that. It's easier to say that he loves her out loud, but admitting it to himself is harder than he expected.) 

_That’s a risk you’ll have to take, Ward._

* * *

A knock pulls him out of his reverie some time later (the clock says it's 3:30, he's not _technically_ off for another hour and a half), his eyes flicking up to the door. “Come in.” Grant moves to straighten out his desk, at least for the sake of appearance, before opening up Lincoln’s report. 

He doesn’t look up when he hears the door swing open, pretending to flick through the report. (And now that he's actually reading this, he’s _definitely_ going to sign off on the reinforcements, because Lincoln might actually need them. Shit. That’s going to leave him short staffed at the Vancouver office, and that place is always lacking as is.

Will any of that matter, though, after he chooses?) 

“Grant.”

He definitely looks up then at the tone, shooting Leo a slightly bemused look before leaning back in his chair. “Leo. Am I in trouble?” 

The words seem to have hit their mark, the engineer’s eyes narrowing as he moves to take a seat across from Grant. “Yeah- do you care to explain why Jemma, my best friend, your _**wife**_ , is downstairs _crying_ in the lab?” Leo only lets out a bitter laugh when he sees Grant start, shaking his head. “So you actually care, do you? Because from what she’s telling me, it sounds like you couldn’t give a damn about her and Taylor. No, you listen to me, Grant Ward.” He puts a finger up, seeing the other man moving to speak. Grant shrinks back a little, stunned. “I love Jemma like a sister. I hate seeing her upset. Now, you know as well as I do that I was not happy when she took off to marry you, but she was happy with you, so I kept my mouth shut. Hell, I even left SHIELD so she’d have us both around, because she was bothered by us being on opposite sides.” 

Leo stops to take a breath before charging on. “We’d both do anything to make her happy. Anything. But now she comes to me, miserable and crying because you won’t even _hold_ her anymore, weeping because you don’t spend time with Taylor- that isn’t okay with me. I don’t know what’s going on that you won’t or can’t confide in her, but you need to pull your head out of your arse before she realizes she can do better than you.” 

Grant can only gape as Leo falls silent, blinking. He knows the other man is protective of Jemma- that’s why he didn’t lose his temper having Leo around -but this is a side he hasn’t really seen of the engineer. 

“I- I can’t talk to her, Leo. Not about this.” He scrubs his hand over his face tiredly, a little surprised to find stubble on his cheeks. Has he really been so preoccupied by the inevitable choice that he's let himself go like this? “This is... it’s a long story. You probably won't- you wouldn't believe half of it.”

“Well, the only way to find out is to tell me.” Leo gives him a look, getting comfortable. “We have time.” 

* * *

“So, let me see if I understand this correctly.” Leo leans back in his chair, taking a sip of the beer Grant had pulled out five minutes into his explanation. “All of this-” he motions with his hand to indicate the world around them “-was created by some genie playing a game with you.”

“Yes.”

“And you have a choice between this world, the one she thinks you want, and one where you get what you think you want.”

“Also yes.”

“A world where you get to get rid of SHIELD, but Taylor doesn’t exist, probably, and Jemma and Lincoln and I are all still part of SHIELD.”

“Most likely.”

“You think that choice is happening soon.”

“Yes? I think.”

Leo lets out a small snort, shaking his head. “No wonder you couldn’t tell Jemma. She doesn’t believe in magic. You know her. _'Magic is just science we don't understand yet.'_ ” He chuckles a little before sobering, meeting Grant’s eyes. “So what are you going to choose?”

Grant makes a point of looking away, choosing to aim his focus down at his glass of whiskey. “I don’t know.” He ignores the scowl the other man shoots at him. “Leo, I don’t- what if I regret this? What if I pick this world and everything goes wrong?”

“And what if it doesn’t? What if you get to that other world and all you do is realize what you’ve lost?” Leo looks almost sympathetic, shrugging. “I can’t make your choice for you, Grant, I can only offer advice. And I know you didn't ask for any, but I'm giving you some anyways, because you're acting like an idiot." He ignores the offended look on the other man's face. "Don’t shut Jemma out. Tell her- maybe not everything, but tell her there’s something preoccupying you, that you're sorry. Enjoy the time you have with her, Grant. Because if you don’t like what you’ve chosen in the end, well- at least you have the memories.”

* * *

He'll never admit it out loud, but Leo Fitz is right. 

He makes a point of greeting Buddy the moment he walks through the front door, sitting his ass down on the hardwood floor and just cuddling the hell out of the dog, letting Buddy give him a bunch of slobbery kisses. It’s nice, really. Grant didn’t realize how much he actually missed messing around with the dog. It makes him wonder what else he's missed out on, acting the way he has.

Soft hums and laughter in the kitchen catch his attention, the man getting back to his feet and moving slowly towards the sound. What he finds makes him smile- Taylor sitting in her high chair, giggling wildly as Jemma dances barefoot around the kitchen, cooking dinner.

She catches sight of him in the doorway and stops, her smile fading slightly. He’s really fucked up. 

_You need to choose._

Grant immediately moves over to her, offering a small grin. “Anything I can do to help?” It's little to make amends, but he doesn't want to have this talk in front of Taylor. He wants to protect her, keep her innocent as long as he possibly can. (And if he doesn't choose this world, it won't be a very long time.)

Jemma almost looks shocked at the question, gaping for a second before pointing wordlessly at the cutting board. Grant stoops to kiss Taylor's head then Jemma's, not missing how she practically recoils at the touch. 

* * *

He doesn’t get to talk to her until they’re getting into bed, turning over to pull her closer. She stiffens almost immediately. “Jemma?” She doesn’t respond, but he presses on, trying to sound apologetic. “I’m- I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting. There’s just been so much going on, babe--”

“Don’t give me a bullshit lie, Grant. If you’re going to lie, make it good.” 

“I’m-” He’s fucking this up. She’s wormed her way into his heart and he can’t handle it. “I’m sorry, Jemma. I’m sorry that I’ve been distant--”

“Distant? _Distant?_ ” Jemma pulls away abruptly and sits up, looking at him with pure anger. “Grant, you’re practically a _stranger_. If not for the fact that you come home for dinner and we sleep in the same bed, you would be. You hardly spend time with Buddy, you don’t play with Taylor, you look at me like you don’t even know me! We have always been honest with each other, ever since we got married. You promised me that you wouldn’t lie to me again.” She shakes her head brokenly. “What’s happening that’s so _important_ that you have to break your wedding vows, Grant?” 

“Jemma, I--”

“You know what, I actually don’t think I want to hear it.” Before he can stop her, Jemma’s up and out of the bed. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” The door closes behind her with a low click. 

_Time’s up._

* * *

He wakes up on the floor. 

“Welcome back, Ward.”

Oh, fuck. 

Grant sits up, shaking his head, one hand pressed to his face as he tries to recover from the grogginess, eyes drifting over to where the genie is still perched on the pouf. She doesn’t look like Jemma anymore- she’s blonde, with eyes as green as the smoke that surrounded him when he first rubbed the lamp. 

(It helps that she doesn’t look like Jemma. It eases the ache that's suddenly appeared in his chest.)

“It’s time to make a choice.” 

Of course it is. The choice is obvious. 

So he makes it. 


End file.
